Black Panther

Flat-out and forthright, "Black Panther" is spectacular. It is, quite literally, a spectacle. Its set pieces and camera orchestrations represent the work of a true visual artist, a reputation that co-writer/director Ryan Coogler has earned after one excellent motion picture after another (his debut was 2013's "Fruitvale Station," which was followed by one of the best films of 2015, "Creed").

In watching, I began to slowly realize I was seeing something that I knew would stand the test of time. With the Spielbergian pacing of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and the all-encompassing grandiosity of something like "Game of Thrones," "Black Panther" entertains, emotionally stirs, and thoughtfully provokes its audience with the swagger and confidence of an instant classic. And a meaningful one, at that.

As the film welcomes us to Wakanda, the fictional East African nation where our hero lives and rules, we're immediately treated to an aesthetic feast of colors and patterns and textures that transform the setting into its own character. Contrasted against the ugly warehouse studios, CGI cities and vacant airplane hangars of previous Marvel films, Wakanda is an absolute wonder. From costume and production design to visual effects, "Black Panther" is one of the more (if not the most) beautiful-looking studio superhero movies to be released. The occupants of Wakanda include our line up of heroes: King T'Challa/Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), Nakia (Lupita Nyong'o), Okoye (Danai Gurira) and Shuri (Letitia Wright, who steals the show).

On the other side of the spectrum we have our villains, played with vigor and viciousness by Andy Serkis and Michael B. Jordan, the latter of whom has had a major role in all of Coogler's films thus far. Jordan, particularly, gives a menacing, formidable performance that would make Adonis Creed cringe. Jordan's character, Erik Killmonger, is where the film showcases its factually-rooted politics. "Black Panther" gives us a fascinating and unsettling exploration into a villain whose reasoning for violent revolution is justified by historical precedent, but whose execution against these issues is a radicalized fervor that would send an entire nation spiraling into war.

This is one of many reasons why "Black Panther" is so truly groundbreaking. The feats achieved by this film are tough to come by in the world of franchise filmmaking, but my ultimate response to "Black Panther" is akin to how I felt after seeing "Star Wars: The Last Jedi" a few months ago -- these are films in a line of many, but they forge their own path and stand tall above their predecessors to cement themselves as individual entities, separate from the commerce and chaos of "cinematic universe." You don't need to have seen "The Avengers" or "Captain America: Civil War" to understand and enjoy "Black Panther." You just need to be a fan of great, entertaining filmmaking.

Yes. "Black Panther" feels different in a cinematic sense, but there's a stronger thread to film's social commentary and representation that I strongly doubt I will ever be able to truly understand. For people of color, I can't imagine how it must feel for a film like "Black Panther" to exist, and the film has already ignited a fiery path towards better representation in the Hollywood blockbuster.

For this, the film is revolutionary.

Black Panther

After the death of his father, T'Challa returns home to the African nation of Wakanda to take his rightful place as king. When a powerful enemy suddenly reappears, T'Challa's mettle as king -- and as Black Panther -- gets tested when he's drawn into a conflict that puts the fate of Wakanda and the entire world at risk. Faced with treachery and danger, the young king must rally his allies and release the full power of Black Panther to defeat his foes and secure the safety of his people.